Foul and natural
by Persepone
Summary: Cream is running from a psychopatic killer. DON'T READ THIS FIC IF YOU'RE INTO FLUFF! Blood and gore galore


Disclaimer: the voices said to write that I don't own Sonic and characters…

**Foul and natural**

It was well past midnight. Stars were twinkling like cheap diamonds trying hard to inspire purchase. A waxing moon turned yesterday's golden sunlight silvery pale, and spilled a plentiful amount over the meadow. Recycled sunshine on sleeping leaves.

It was what most people recognize as a romantic night. The kind Shakespeare must have imagined as background to Twelfth Night. The kind which makes you dream. But the scenery was completely wasted on its only audience; a young rabbit, Cream.

To her every shadowy outline was a threat, the tiniest straw of grass resembled a dagger, and the moonlight filled her vision with wavering, blurry ghosts. Ghosts horribly mangled. Ghosts whose blood, even in death, made green spring seem like red autumn.

She felt a jabbing pain in her stomach and wanted to throw up, to get all this out of her body, to pretend it had happened to someone else, or hadn't happened at all.

She closed her eyes, still sore from crying, but regretted it immediately; the ghosts in her mind were far worse than those conjured up by the moonlight.

Not far now. Almost there. Why hadn't she seen the lights in the windows yet?

Panic painted her vision red, making her feel for an instant that she was drowning in a sea of blood. What if he wasn't home? What if she would get no further than to his locked door, knowing full well that safety lay only on the other side of it, just out of reach. He would find her on the doorstep next morning, her crushed limbs sticking out at odd angels, cool, wet dew mingling with dark, dried-up blood in her fur. Would her eyes be open too, her face frozen in the final horror? Would he scream as she had, only a few hours ago?

"Vanilla… Mom…" she thought as tears trailed dark lines over the light fur on her cheeks, the small, salt drops drawn back by the pull of speed. The memory seemed to unlock stamina she didn't know she had, allowing her to accelerate. She flew rather than ran to the house, a small sparrow desperate for cover.

She hit the door front first, not daring to slow down, and tumbled down unto the carpeted floor. It had been unlocked. With a jolt of panic she threw herself at it, slamming it shut.

- Tails? Tails!

Her voice seemed to be devoured by the dense darkness of the house; not even an echo answered her.

She noticed she was shaking – "Exhaustion." The young rabbit concentrated on breathing, on slowing down her racing heart. Little by little she returned from the haunted land of horror and shock to the normal world. The ghosts faded, the blood evaporated, and she was left with an overpowering sensation of weakness. She felt at once both light and heavy as she walked to the living room and slumped down on the couch.

Did she sleep? Surely not. Surely she was too afraid… Yet it seemed like only a few minutes had passed, when suddenly the lights were turned on, blinding her for a white second. In his own house he moved without a sound, knowing every tell-tale floorboard and creaking door. She hadn't heard him come in, and seeing him there, illuminated by the electric lights from above, her old frantic state of mind re-emerged.

Seeking protection, focusing on it with every last grain of strength in her body, Cream partly fell, partly flew at Tails, throwing her arms around him, completely ignoring the confused expression in the young kitsune's face. The strength and desperation of her embrace nearly knocked him off his feet. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he stumbled back a few paces.

Before he had a chance to piece together a question, Cream started talking, words flying like bullets from a machine-gun, moving across the events of the evening at random, returning again and again to her finding her mother in their kitchen;

- Blood everywhere… her face… her eyes… oh Tails, her EYES!

Her voice broke into sobbing as she lowered her head and cried on his chest, her tears making his fur stick.

Slowly she regained control and managed to look him in the face. She was surprised to find him tense, wide-eyed and shaking. He looked directly into her eyes and stuttered a few meaningless syllables. He still hadn't touched her, keeping his hands well back, as though he was afraid of what they might do left to themselves.

Seeing him like this, Cream realized that she had run directly to his house, ignoring all alternatives. She had other friends, so why had she instinctively chosen Tails? Surely Sonic, Amy or Knuckles would be better equipped for protecting her against a murderous maniac…

As she looked at him now, she realized that she had always felt a certain something when he was near; her heart pounded and she grew nervous. Was this what Amy called love? Did he feel it too? Yes! Yes, that was the only explanation.

She loosened her tight embrace, placing her hands on his arms. He grew slightly less tense, but still seemed to be immersed in an intense inner combat, barely restraining himself.

- Oh, Tails…

When she spoke his name he virtually jumped, like a little boy caught stealing a cookie.

- … I feel it too…

He looked like a comet had hit him on the head and its little green inhabitants were starting a colony on his nose, without asking his permission. He placed his shaking hands on ever so carefully on her shoulder.

- … I don't mind… really I don't…

He smiled, and she was so entranced by the relief in the eyes, she missed the hunger of his lips.

He pulled her towards him, returning her embrace. She could feel his heart beat in perfect harmony with her own. One young love against the cruelty of a mad mind. Cream knew it would be all right now. Tails lowered his head, nudging her shoulder with his nose. With a small smile, she tilted her to give him room, waiting for a kiss.

In one swift, flowing movement the kitsune bit down, feeling soft fur clot in his mouth, almost choking him, mingled with the heavy, lush sweetness of blood as the skin broke beneath his small, sharp teeth. The taste rushed through his brain like a drug, sweeping away all his former resistance; instinct won. Hearing the bunny gasp with pain, feeling her struggle feebly already weakening from loss of blood, he jerked his head back, tearing half her throat away with an awful wet, red sound. She grew soft and heavy, robbed of all former strength. Empty. He let go of her. Her bloody throat trailed a smear down his chest. She was dead even before she hit the floor. Her blood flowed out unto the light carpet beneath her, making it seem like she was lying on a huge rose, slowly unfurling its petals.

Tails was swaying. Inside him, the beast howled once before fleeing back into the dark forest of the subconscious, leaving room enough for the scientist to stumble back out.

The kitsune closed his eyes and clutched his head. What had happened? He had been hugging Cream, trying to comfort her. Then… the girl had spoken? He remembered seeing her lips move, but no words seemed to come out…

His hands felt odd; they stuck in his fur… He raised them up before his face and stood there staring at them in disbelief.

"But I don't have any red gloves…" was the first thought slow, stupid consciousness fired through his brain. Then he looked past the horrid, bloody fingers and on to the dead form slumped on his carpet. He knew immediately she was dead; living people don't tend to leak so much…

Caught in a nightmarish panic, he stumbled back, gasping for breath. "Why… how…" He licked his lips and tasted blood on them.

- Oh, no…

In a terrible white-hot flash it all made sense; his blank memory, lack of any hunger whatsoever, the late nights… the serial killer…

From the floor Cream looked up at him with that unbearable glassy stare, which he now knew he had seen a dozen times before.

Taking her hand, he sat down next to the dead rabbit. The blood on the carpet was beginning to dry up, turning dark, almost black.

He wished he could at least cry, but nothing seemed to come. It was as if he was just as empty as the dead thing before him. But he knew that, unlike her, his pain was just beginning… on the edge of his vision, ghosts were already starting to eye him menacingly, lifting bloody hands to claw at his face. In the twilight of dawn, he whimpered, moving closer to Cream…


End file.
